I'll Wait For You
by callmeGreen-Eyes
Summary: This is a story about the true value of friendship, of sacrifice, and the sort of love that few really experience. Even in the most gruesome battle in history, friendship means more than anything...including life. oneshot


disclaimer: if i owned any of these characters, i would own all of them, and i'd be a lot richer than i actually am.

A/N: this is just a random oneshot i thought up one night, and i figure i can post it on here. tell me what you think!

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**I'll Wait For You**

By this point in time, it was no longer a matter of 'getting the bad guys.' No, by now, all you could think about was staying alive. And even then, screams echoed through the air as bodies fell to the ground—Death Eaters and Light Fighters alike. Smoke stopped you from breathing properly as fires roared on all sides, branding the area as a battlefield.

But that's what it was. We were at war, fighting in the most gruesome battle known to our kind, against the most evil man in the world. This was the Final Battle; this would choose which future would become reality. We could stay as we've always been, with a little less Muggle hatred and violence. Or we could end up slowly dying out because one man couldn't get over his prejudices. Either way, the death toll was already running high.

As I run through the battle, my eyes dart from the area around me to the ground below me, back and forth, looking for ambushes and corpses I recognize. I run past Moody, who is fighting three Death Eaters at once and still holding his own. There, facedown, that must be Nymphadora Tonks. No one else would go into battle with pink hair. Of course, she might still be alive. I want to check, to try to help, but even as I run past I'm forced to fight another skull-faced wizard, one who's voice I don't recognize. He calls me names—Mudblood, blood traitor, Muggle-lover—anything he thinks will anger me, but what he doesn't realize is that I've gone half deaf from a curse that grazed my ear when I dodged. Not that I would listen anyway. He hits the ground, and I'm not sure if I killed him or not. Fighting has completely taken over my body, and every action seems planned by another person, as if they're the one fighting, not me. I move on.

In a glance I see Bellatrix Lestrange lying on her back, eyes wide and blank, a look of terror on her face. I thought that might happen. No matter how much he repeated ignoring the urge for revenge, I knew Harry still hated her for killing Sirius. He was more than prepared to bring her down, if he found her during this battle. I smiled a bit as I kept running—how I would've loved to tell her, when she was alive, that a seventeen year old would kill her for murdering his convict godfather.

Still, there lies Mundungus Fletcher. He is not alive. Here, Dedalus Diggle. Each Light Fighter I recognized on the ground lay next to at least one Death Eater. As grim as it was, that lifted my hopes. We had good people, good fighters on our side. We could win this.

Even Seamus Finnegan, who as a first year was known for blowing things up, had taken three Death Eaters down with him, and he was still breathing. Whether he would survive, I had no idea. But he had outlasted them.

Justin Flinch-Fletchley was fighting two Death Eaters to my right, the crumpled form of Hannah Abbott lying behind him. I shot a spell at one of the cloaked men, and Justin quickly took the other out. We nodded and I move on. I didn't know if Hannah was alive either. Like I said, survival was key at this point.

Terry Boot ran past me in the opposite direction, but he wasn't retreating. He was chasing a Death Eater. I smiled at that too. Terry had never been a violent or even outspoken boy. But apparently he could scare a grown man into running for his life. Good.

An explosion erupted in front of me. I stopped, shocked, and then ran towards it. I tripped as I neared the blast zone, and when I looked back to see what I had tripped over, I nearly screamed. Real, blinding pain, ripped through me. It's a foot, wearing all too familiar shabby shoes. Nearer my head, I can see blazing red hair through the grass.

"No…" I crawled over. George Weasley was on his back, breathing heavily. There were scorch marks on his face, and you could smell the burnt hair ten feet away. His entire left side was burned. "George?" I said, just loud enough for him to hear. His face turned towards my voice, and I almost screamed again. From forehead to chin on the left side, his face looked melted.

"George! George, where are you!" another voice called. This was one I had to answer.

"FRED!! He's over here! HURRY!"

Fred crash landed next to us, barely avoiding a jinx, though who cast it I had no idea. Fred's eyes immediately welled, and he glanced up at me, lost. I shook my head, knowing where this would end, but not wanting to say it aloud. The twins clasped hands, taking my nod as a death sentence. Which, it sort of was. Of all the things I had seen, this hurt and angered me the most.

"Fred, what happened? Who did this?"

A 'this is ironic' smile came to George's face, though it was lopsided. Fred barely smiled. "It was our fault. Our idea," George told me. It was hard for him to talk, I could tell. He turned to look at Fred. "I forgot to fix the timing. That was my fault." A sob escaped from Fred. "No worries, little bro," George said, "you should see the other guy." He was still smiling. Still dying.

I walked away, knowing the twins needed these final moments alone. Within the next five minutes, four more Death Eaters went down under my wand. Separating the Weasley twins was about the cruelest thing a person could do, and they had done it, them and their foul war and their stupid prejudices. Then I came upon a man whose voice I vaguely recognized, whom I must have known, because he called me Granger before insulting me, as if the bite would hurt more with the familiarity of a name. And then, as he fell and bleach-blonde hair appeared from under the hood, I knew whom I had just brought down. Lucius Malfoy. What a shame. Draco had said he wanted to do it himself, get revenge for the Mark burned into his arms, thanks to the man who was supposed to be his father. He hadn't been listening to Harry's speeches either. No wonder he and Harry hated each other so much: they're very alike. But they would both laugh in my face if I told them that. Another similarity.

My eyes wandered. Lavender Brown was taking on—and defeating—Millicent Bulstrode to my right. Neville and Draco were fighting back to back in front of me, keeping a circle of roughly twenty-five Death Eaters at bay, Crabbe and Goyle among them. I sent a few well-chosen spells in their direction, but I knew they could handle it. After Draco switched sides, he saved my life. And Neville, as shocking as it was, asked for lessons not unlike the D.A.'s from Draco, who even more shockingly agreed. Dean Thomas went down on my left, and as I accepted his death I saw a spell come from his shadowed form to hit the Death Eater that he had been fighting. Luna Lovegood ran up and finished up the other two Dean had been fighting, before helping him stand. One miracle managed to wiggle its way in, apparently.

That's when I saw it. Harry was running into the middle of a fray of Death Eaters, shooting spells at any who crossed his path, and Ron was right behind him, covering his back, and dealing with the extra Death Eaters. I ran towards them, helping Ron clean up even at a distance. At this point in time, it was no longer even about survival. It was the desperate desire to win, to finish once and for all. At this point, it was about Harry beating Voldemort. I took down another Death Eater as I got close to Ron, leaving him to deal with the other, which he did promptly. He smiled at me when I came to stand by him, and I smiled weakly back. We would stay here and hold everything off, for Harry. So he could win. So he could defeat Voldemort, and wizards and witches everywhere could live without fear again. At this point it didn't matter whether or not we survived, just as long as Voldemort did not. Ron had been right all those years ago when he sacrificed himself to a giant chessboard in order to get Harry through. Harry was never the Boy Who Lived to Ron and I, but he is the boy who matters most in this war, and we both recognize that. We planned this out earlier, without Harry, knowing that he would tell us that he had to do it alone. He always said that, trying to protect us. And we always ignored him. That's part of being a best friend, making sure the other is never truly alone. Whether they realize it or not.

More red hair joined us. Ginny, bleeding from a cut on her cheek and covered in soot, appeared suddenly at my side, still vigorously shooting spells. My mind glossed over the misery of the situation: a bunch of teenagers were taking on the darkest wizard in ages, fighting like war veterans and completely disregarding teenage life. Harry, Ron and I hadn't even returned to school this year, instead renting a place in Godric's Hollow and finishing the search for the Horcruxes.

Fred stood on the other side of Ron, his face blank and tear-streaked, his expression hollow. I caught his eye and saw a volcano erupt in his features, allowing all his anger and grief out. He channeled them through his wand and dueled like I'd never seen him do before. He was a force all his own, and though I was sorry for him, I was proud of him too. I was afraid he would lie down and let himself die to be with George. From the looks of it, though, he wanted vengeance.

Wow. None of us were paying attention to Harry. Ah well.

I could hear Harry and Voldemort talking, bickering, behind us. I'm sure I wasn't the only one, but we kept fighting. Lupin joined us, looking simultaneously more alive and more tired than I had ever seen him. There was what looked like a burn in the shape of a hand on his neck and face, but he was smiling maliciously. I glanced in the direction he came from and saw the form of a plump man, as well as a silvery reflection on his hand. Peter Pettigrew had finally paid for his treachery. Hopefully the payment was painful. Judging by the look on Lupin's face, it was _extremely_ painful. Good.

The area became brilliantly lit from behind us, but none of us turned. Voldemort had met Harry in a fenced off section of this field, and no one dared enter it, so we were not afraid of being caught from behind. I figured Harry had pulled off good old Priori Incantatem. That had been his plan, anyway, though we all knew plans fell through quite easily when at war. It would be just a minute longer, then…

Without warning the air became immensely warmer. Most battles stopped, as if every individual could feel the evil being drained out. I know I could. Nearly every eye turned to the fenced off battle, mine included. As Lord Voldemort finally died, his body shriveled back into a normal human form, forcing him to die not has the powerful Dark Lord he so wanted to be, but instead as simple Tom Riddle, a deranged man who looked like his handsome father but acted like his psychotic mother. And then a tidal wave of wind swept across us. Ron and I were holding on to each other to stay standing, as were Ginny and Fred behind us (how they got there, I have no idea). Remus was kneeling down before it even happened, his arms wrapped around someone with pink hair and a broken leg.

The sight that greeted us as the air cleared scared me more than the whole battle had. There was one, wrinkly, shriveled shell of an aged man—a corpse which I assumed to be Voldemort's. It surely wasn't Harry. But Harry was on the ground too; on his back ten feet from Voldemort. I couldn't tell if he was breathing. My grip on Ron tightened. Ginny ran forward, yelling his name. Ron and I followed soon after; our eyes locked on our best friend, our brother.

I couldn't say how Ron felt at that moment. We never talked about it. I could venture a guess though. I'd say he was about as terrified as I was; terrified that he had lost one of the best things in his life, terrified he had lost something so important that he would never be whole again. That's how it is when you have a real best friend. Not a best friendship that is all talk with no feeling or action or memory behind it, no, the best friendship that runs so deep that it is anchored in your blood, and you know you couldn't be you without them, because they are such a part of you and your life that if they died, you would be completely lost. They're the one guarantee in your life, the one forever true—the one forever. And it doesn't matter how old you are, or where you are, or who you are, they are always there, and you just can't let that go. No matter how pointless it may seem, you're going to fight to hold on to that, because that matters more than life itself. People always talk about how their significant other is the most important thing in the world, and they would do anything for them, but they always forget that best friends have a bigger impact than boyfriends, or girlfriends. "Bros before hos." "Chicks before dicks." The sayings are crude, but true. The best friend will always come first. They may not matter _more_, but they matter equally, and that is often forgotten.

That was how I felt, in any case. Lots of emotions in a little space of time, but for the most part, I was terrified. I couldn't stand the thought of Harry dying. We all knew it was a possibility, but Ron and I had blatantly refused to even think about it. Harry _would_ live, simply because we needed him to.

Ron and I kneeled on one side of him, while Ginny took the other. She was crying already. Was I? I was so numb, I couldn't tell. She had his hand in hers, and she was trying to talk him out of dying. Ron and I sat there, mute, gripping each other's hands tight enough to break bones.

_He has to live. How can we go on without him? He's our best friend—we need him! Give him back!_

And then, like a miracle, Harry's bloodshot green eyes opened. A very small smile graced his features. Ginny cried harder. Ron was crying and laughing. So was I.

"We won?" Harry asked quietly.

"You kicked his ass, mate," Ron said, trying to be less emotional.

"Very well done, Harry," Lupin said, walking up with his arm around Tonks' waist, holding her up.

"Wotcher," she said, nodding with a smile to Harry. He nodded back.

Hagrid limped up. "Beau'iful," he said, his eyes to the stars. Our eyes followed his gaze and stayed there for a moment. Clouds that had covered the sky during our battle were suddenly gone, and the brilliance of space shone down on us. I wished a thank you to the moon for not showing itself this night, though I knew it was just part of the cycle. Still, it was nice to have Lupin here in human form. "Le's get the hero off the ground, eh?" Hagrid added.

With much grimacing, we pulled Harry up into a standing position. Ginny took one side, Ron took the other. I stood on Ron's free side, holding his hand. Other Light Fighters were rounding up the rest of the Death Eaters without mercy. But there was one standing freely, sneering, brown hair sticking out at odd angels. I hadn't seen this one before. He lifted his wand and aimed – I followed my instinct.

"Look out!"

Harry, Ron, and Ginny were on the ground again. They had to be—I pushed them out of the way. I couldn't tell though. I was trying to hard not to scream as pain split through my abdomen. It wasn't Cruciatus. I knew that. But it hurt almost as bad. It felt like someone had stuck a burning coal in my chest, and they were wriggling it around a bit before taking it out.

Then I saw green light above me, and the burning stopped, but the pain continued on a duller note. It was harder for me to breath suddenly, and each breath was shorter and wetter than the one before. It felt like liquid was flowing freely in my stomach. Red and black hair erupted in my blurry vision.

"Hermione?" Ron said, his voice about three octaves higher than it normally was. My eyes fluttered in response, and I tried to smile.

"C'mon, 'Mione, say something," said Harry. He looked terrified. They both did.

"You did it," I said to Harry, though my voice didn't sound like my own. "You won." I was trying to congratulate him. I barely had energy to show emotion on my face, let alone in my voice.

"'Mione, you're going to make it, save your energy," Ron said urgently, his voice somewhat normal. His hand was wrapped in mine. It fit perfectly. My eyes closed for a minute, and I heard Ron and Harry both demand someone help me, but no one knew how. Even Lupin was lost on a counter curse.

"Stay with us, Hermione, we're getting help," came Harry's voice. I felt the ground shake as Hagrid ran. My eyes opened again. Everything was still blurry.

"You boys…" I started. I sounded like me again, but my voice was shaking. I smiled. "Stay out of trouble." Both had tears in their eyes.

"No, Hermione," started Ron.

"We still need you," Harry finished for him.

"I needed you…to live…" I told them. Looking from Ron to Harry. They had to understand that they were more important than my life. "You…both…matter more…" My free hand reached out. "And Ginny…" She appeared next to Harry, already crying.

"You're going to be okay," Ron said, his hand smoothing back my hair. I shook my head sadly. "You have to be, 'Mione. You can't die."

"I can…and I am." I sighed and coughed, hacking up something wet. I heard someone mutter something about blood. Apparently I had gathered a crowd on my deathbed. Interesting. "Harry." He leaned closer. "Live now…without…burdens." He didn't move, but the tears fell faster. "And fucking…marry her," I added, pointing to Ginny. Both laughed. "Ginny." Harry leaned back and Ginny leaned forward.

"Hey girl," she said to me. Her voice was choked with tears.

"Have a daughter," I told her. "Your mom…would've liked that."

She nodded and leaned back.

"Ron." He leaned in. "I love you." His eyes closed as he bit back more tears. "Have for…quite…awhile. Too stubborn…to tell you. Stupid." I could feel my strength dying, just like the rest of me. "You, live too. Fall in love again. Make more Weasleys."

He didn't nod. He just cried. He would listen eventually. He always had.

I looked up at the stars. They were slowly sinking into blackness. "Boys," I said quickly, holding out my hands. Two calloused hands gripped my own. "Best Friends."

"Best friends," they echoed.

"Golden Trio."

"Golden Trio," they replied, laughing a little.

I could see images of us, usually making mischief, through our years at Hogwarts. I sighed and let go. With one last burst of strength, I tried to lighten the mood.

"I'll wait for you by the doors to heaven. Merlin knows you'll get in trouble along the way and I'll have to smuggle you in."

The last thing I heard as the darkness swallowed me was the laughter of the two greatest things to ever happen to me.


End file.
